A call came down the line of soldiers and Rangers. “Low on ammo. Anyone got extra?”
Of course nobody did. At least the war party hadn’t figured that out yet. He didn’t have a handful of shells left himself. He had to get that leader. Even as he and the fierce Comanches’ gazes locked, the warrior came riding right toward him, and Colt recognized the man even as the brave rode straight for the corral fence. It was Bloody Hand, one of the cruelest and most skilled of the warriors.
He had evidently recognized Colt, too, because he grinned without humor, showing white teeth in a dark, scarlet painted face as his white horse cleared the fence. Bloody Hand jumped from his horse, dagger in hand, and landed on Colt.
“Ha! Young Stallion!” he shouted in Comanche. “I come to cut your heart out!”
“Not yet!” Colt yelled back as the two men grappled. He grabbed the man’s knife hand to keep from being stabbed, and now they rolled over and over in the dust of the corral. Colt knew the soldiers and Rangers were watching helplessly, afraid to fire for fear of hitting Colt.
He knew that Bloody Hand was a strong and ruthless fighter and would give his life to take Colt’s. If only he could get that knife away from the warrior, but it was all he could do to hang onto the man’s wrist as they scuffled and fought.
Now Bloody Hand came up on top, and he grinned down at Colt as he struggled to bring the knife lower. Colt could see the blade reflecting light from the burning barn. He fought with all his strength to get out from under the Comanche, but the man was so big and strong.
“Now you die!” Bloody Hand shrieked in Comanche as he brought the blade down toward Colt’s throat.
There was the sudden bark of a pistol and for a split second, Bloody Hand froze in midair, wavering and looking astounded, and then the knife tumbled from his dead fingers and he fell across Colt’s body. Colt shoved him aside and staggered to his knees, looking around.
The dusty, determined ranch wife nodded as she lowered her smoking pistol. “That’s for my dead boy,” she said.
Colt noticed that word began spreading through the warriors that their leader had been killed. They broke their circle and hesitated uncertainly and then began to move away in twos and threes, riding away from the ranch, chanting a mourning cry. It seemed almost unbelievable.
“Cease fire!” Colt ordered and the word went down the line of Cavalry.
The Ranger captain pushed his Stetson back, leaned against the bale of hay, and grinned. “Well, I’ll be damned. Boys, we’ll get to see the dawn after all.”
A cheer went up from the troops and the handful of Rangers as the Comanche rode away. Colt stood up and looked around. There was nothing left of the house or the barn except the corral.
Mrs. Schultz and her husband had gone over to their dead son. The woman held the boy close and sobbed, rocking back and forth. The grizzled rancher had tears in his eyes as he tried to comfort her.
Colt said to his sergeant, “Sergeant, I think a big pot of coffee and some grub is in order, and at dawn, we’ve got to do a funeral. Have some troopers start dousin’ these fires and see if anything can be saved.”
The sergeant saluted. “Yes, sir. We’ll see to it.”
Colt stood up and walked over to the grieving ranch family. “Ma’am, we’ll have some coffee and food in a minute, and then we’ll do a service for your son at dawn.”
She wiped her eyes on her apron. “Yes, we’ll bury him right here on the ranch. Nate loved this place.”
The Ranger captain had joined them and looked around. “You folks don’t have much left. You gonna stay?”
The rancher looked up at him, anger on his weary face. “You’re damned right. This is our home. We’ve shed blood on this dirt. We ain’t gonna turn tail and run. No, sirree. We’ll start over. Some of the other settlers will help us.”
Colt said, “It’s the Comanches’ home, too.” For a long moment, he felt sorry for the Indians. They were being pushed off the land they had held forever and were fighting to hold on to it. It was all they knew.
The Ranger nodded as he and Colt walked back to their men. “In a way, I almost pity the Indians. They can’t win, but they won’t stop fightin’.”
Colt paused and rolled a cigarette. “You got to admire them for that. They probably know they can’t win, but they want to live free, like every other human bein’. How would you like to live penned up on a reservation?”
“I’m a Texan, born and bred.” The Ranger captain leaned on the fence. “True Texans live free or die tryin’.”
Colt reached over, picked up a burning piece of wood from the barn, and lit his smoke. “Ain’t that the truth?”
It was a long night as the men treated their wounded and fought the fires.
The summer sky was giving birth to the first bloody rays of dawn in the east as the troopers finished putting the fires out and ate their grub. Colt looked out across the endless prairie and then at his men and the brave ranch couple waiting to bury their son. He was suddenly both weary and sad. His sergeant handed him and the Ranger captain tin cups of coffee.
Colt took his gratefully. “Damn, that’s good. The men find anything worth savin’?”
“Not much. Part of the barn, is all.”
Colt looked at the couple laying out their son and wiping his smudged and bloody face. “Give those folks a clean shirt. It ain’t right to bury that boy in dirty clothes. And make sure those people get some food and any of our extra supplies.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And catch some of those stray Indian ponies. This family will need livestock and especially ammunition to start over.”
“They gonna stay?” The young sergeant looked surprised. “They don’t have a thing left—it’s all burned up.”
Colt nodded and sipped his coffee. “They’re Texans, they’ll stay and rebuild. People in the Lone Star State have grit. They don’t give up land they’ve spilled sweat and blood into.”
“Yes, sir.” The sergeant saluted and walked away.
Colt watched the coming sunrise as he smoked, and then he laughed.
The Ranger captain asked, “What’s so funny?”
“My enlistment ran out at midnight last night. I’m not a U.S. Cavalry lieutenant anymore.”
“We could use some men in the Rangers,” the captain said.
“I know.” Colt sipped his coffee. “But the Cavalry needs men, too, and there’s a woman back at the post.”
The captain leaned against the fence and nodded. “The major’s daughter? I hear she’s the most beautiful girl in Texas and rich besides. Good catch.”
“I reckon,” Colt said, picturing the lovely, genteel Olivia in his mind. The captain was right. Any man in his right mind would be lucky to marry her and share her bed and her fortune.
“Even if I’m not a Cavalry officer, I reckon I am until I get these soldiers back to the fort and reenlist.”
“They say once a soldier, always a soldier,” the captain said.
Colt thought a moment, and then he knew what he was going to do. Maybe he had known all along and just hadn’t admitted it to himself. He tossed away his smoke and called out to the sergeant. “Sergeant Clancy, let’s get gathered up and then help these people bury their son before we leave.”
“Yes, sir.”
Colt smiled and watched the sunrise. It was going to be a typical Texas summer day, a light breeze, a little heat, and then a dusty ride back to the fort to report to the major.
It was a sad, makeshift funeral. There was no wood left that hadn’t been burned, so they couldn’t build a coffin. Instead they washed the boy’s body, put a clean shirt on him and combed his hair before they wrapped him in an army blanket. His mother leaned over and kissed his cheek before the troopers lowered him into a hole they had dug.
The parents stepped forward and threw a handful of soil into the hole, and then the soldiers filled in the rest. Now the Ranger captain gestured for everyone to surround the grave and they all took their
hats off and bowed their heads.
He began to speak in a soft Texas drawl. “God, do look down upon us this hot June mornin’ and see that we are buryin’ young Nate Schultz. He had hardly begun to live afore his life was took as he helped his folks defend their ranch. He was a brave son of Texas and we hope you’ve saved a special place for him where the grass and the wildflowers are always tall and the wind blows free, and there’s no pain or sweat or worry anymore. Havin’ always lived in Texas, heaven will have to be extra nice to live up to the Lone Star State. Don’t disappoint Nate, please. Then look after the rest of us as we try to make it through life and tame this wild country. We’re only men, after all, and sinful, but we are Texans, so that should count for something in your Big Book. Amen.”
A chorus of amens from the others echoed across the silent landscape.
A hawk flew over just then and soared upward, calling in a sound that echoed across the plains.
“It’s a sign,” said the old rancher somberly. “Nate is flyin’ free and out of pain forever now.”
The mother tried to hold back her tears as a Ranger stepped forward and began to play “Amazing Grace” on his harmonica.
When the last haunting notes died away, a soldier held out a small, ragged Texas flag he had pulled from the burning house. He hung it from a burnt stick of barn wood and placed it on the grave where it flapped in the wind.
“It don’t seem right not to have flowers,” Colt said and looked around. “Sergeant, I see a claret cup cactus over on that rise. Dig it up and replant it here on the young man’s grave, will you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The woman took a deep breath and approached Colt. “Thank you for comin’, Lieutenant. Thank you, too, Captain.” She held out trembling hands to Colt and the Ranger.
Colt took her hand and squeezed it. It was work-worn and callused, just like Hannah’s.
“We’re just sorry we couldn’t do more, ma’am. We’ll have some soldiers bring your younger boy back to you when we reach the fort.” He couldn’t help but think of a small boy that he had grown to love over the past few weeks.
Colt heard a bark and a whining sound and a nondescript brown dog sniffed the fresh grave and then laid down upon it.
The old rancher said, “That’s Shep, Nate’s dog.”
“Poor Shep.” Colt nodded. “He don’t understand.”
The woman put her chin in the air, and her voice, when she spoke, was as stubborn as her lined face. “We’ll be all right, Lieutenant. Every time I think about givin’ up, I’ll look out and see that grave and remember we’re here to stay. We’re Texans.”
Colt sighed and nodded to the Ranger captain, then turned to the sergeant. “Sergeant Clancy, let’s see if the men can salvage anything else from the fire for these folks and do whatever you can to help them. After that, we’ll go. I got things to do back at the fort.”
Chapter 19
Hannah was up with the sunrise, looking out the window and hoping the troops were all right. With any luck, they’d be back at the fort maybe around noon. She sighed, thinking she intended to be gone by then, one way or another. Olivia was right; Colt had a great future ahead of him if he married the high-class beauty. What could Hannah offer him?
Nothing but her love, and she wasn’t even certain he wanted that. She smiled ruefully. Maybe she had only been convenient for him the other night.
Travis woke up just then, and she went into the kitchen and fixed her child some scrambled eggs. She had counted her money over and over, but the amount didn’t change. She had eleven dollars and thirty-two cents. That wouldn’t go very far or even buy a stage ticket.
She went to the front door and opened it. The day was going to be a typical Texas summer morning, hot and fair. Across and down at the sutler’s store, she saw the farmer pulling up in his wagon. Taking a deep breath, she took Travis by the hand and walked over, intercepting him. Maybe she could get a ride to the next town.
“Hello, there.”
He grinned. “I was hopin’ to see you.”
She shrugged. “I don’t work here anymore.”
“Oh?” He looked disappointed.
“I’m thinking of leaving the fort, maybe going to a town.” She smiled up at him as Travis played in the dirt at her feet.
He pushed his hat back. “Long way to the next town, Mrs. Brownley, maybe twenty miles to the east.”
“Maybe I can hitch a ride with you?”
“What are you gonna do when you get there?” He leaned against his wagon.
“Whatever I can to support my child,” she said. “Scrub spittoons at a saloon, clean houses, I’m not sure.”
He took off his straw hat and fumbled with the brim. She noticed his hair was thinning and his bald head was freckled. “Ma’am,” he began awkwardly, “I know this ain’t the proper way to go about this, but since I’m needin’ a wife and you’re on your own, maybe, well, maybe we might get hitched.”
“What? I don’t know, Mr. Holbrinker. I barely know you.”
“I know, but we could get to know each other.” He grinned down at her. “I need someone who can cook and clean and you need a home. Maybe we could make it work, and maybe you could grow to at least like me.”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you. If you must know, I’m in love with someone else.” She half turned away, thinking about spending the rest of her life sleeping with a man who wanted sex from her, a man she did not love. She’d had a loveless marriage, and then there had been the cruel Spider. There had only been one man in her life who she loved with all her heart and for his own good, she needed to put Colt out of her mind and let him go his own way.
“Well, ma’am, that hombre don’t seem to be lookin’ after you, and I sure would. I got a big farm.”
She looked down at Travis playing in the dirt. She had to put her own desires aside and think about her child and his future. “My little boy—” she began.
“Why, shucks, ma’am, I’d treat him like my own. I got five grown sons, you know. What do you say?”
She had to be truthful with him. “It doesn’t bother you that I don’t love you?”
“That’s fine, ma’am. Maybe you can learn to. You’d share my bed, wouldn’t you? Give me a husband’s rights?”
Hannah winced at the thought, but if she married him, he would have a legal right to her body. She looked up at the sun. Colt would be back at the fort in a few hours and if she saw him again, she knew she would weaken and not be able to leave him. “Maybe you are right. Maybe we can make this work. Can you find a preacher and let’s get this done?”
He grinned, showing his snaggled teeth. “What’s the hurry, ma’am?”
She dare not tell him. “I just make quick decisions,” she said. “You get a preacher and I’ll gather up my things. We can be out of here before one o’clock.”
“You betcha!” He grabbed her and gave her a quick smack on the lips. He tasted of chewing tobacco and smelled like sweat.
She tried not to recoil. She had to think of Travis.
“Where do you want to have the ceremony?”
“How about down by the river?” she said and fought not to tear up. “I’ll invite Doc and a few people so we’ll have witnesses. I’ll meet you down there about noon.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He seemed to forget about the delivery he had come for, jumped in his wagon, and took off at a fast trot.
Hannah stared after him. She regretted her decision almost immediately, but what else was she to do? The farmer was rich and he had promised to take care of her little boy, and that was most important to her—more important than her own happiness. She would be married and gone before Colt ever got back to the fort.
She grabbed Travis’s hand and started to her small cabin. She didn’t have much stuff to collect; she could wrap it up in a knapsack. Olivia’s maid would help her get herself dressed for the wedding. Doc might try to talk her out of it, but she was determined to leave Colt behind forever. She knew she could not
say no to him if he came to her bed again, and it was morally not right to sleep with another woman’s man. She went into her cabin and began to get her things together.
Back at the Schultz’s burned-out ranch, Colt’s troopers and the Texas Rangers were almost ready to ride out.
Mrs. Schultz nodded and smiled at the bright red cactus now planted on her son’s grave. “When we rebuild the ranch house, I’ll be able to look out and see it bloom,” she said and wiped tears away with her apron.
The Texas Ranger pushed his hat back. “I sure am sorry we didn’t get here in time to save him. Maybe you ought to think about movin’ into town?”
The old father shook his head. “We’re like other Texans. We’ve shed blood to hold this land, and we ain’t leavin’. The Injuns will just have to give way.”
Colt nodded sympathetically. “I understand. It is their land, too, and they’ll fight for it.”
The old man set his jaw. “But we will not be moved. Even if they kill us, there’ll be more of us. This is good land for ranching and there’s more of us comin’ all the time. We intend to stay, even if we have to live in a soddie for a while.”
Colt and the Ranger captain walked away. The Ranger got his makin’s from his shirt pocket. “Them’s tough people, they got grit. They’ll stay all right.”
Colt paused and reached to roll a cigarette. “You’re right about that. Kinda sad, really, but there’s no way Comanches and farmers can live side by side peacefully.”
He was bone tired as he lit his cigarette and a private brought him and the captain tin cups of strong coffee.
“Come to think of it”—he grinned as he sipped the coffee—“I shouldn’t even be givin’ them orders. I’m a civilian as of last midnight.”
The Ranger leaned on the fence and sipped his coffee. “You gonna reenlist?”
“That’s the plan,” Colt said. “The major’s beautiful daughter wants to marry me. She’s got a rich, influential family, too.”
The captain nodded knowingly. “Looks like you got your future made. You could end up as a general.”
“I reckon.” Colt took off his hat and watched the rising sun as he smoked. “You think there’s a Civil War comin’?”
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